


Reflections in the Dark

by morghost



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Background Relationships, Character Study, F/F, human!Aithusa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morghost/pseuds/morghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aithusa lies awake reflecting on Morgana’s past while Morgana sleeps. Set early season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections in the Dark

Aithusa lays in Morgana’s arms, legs tangled and a cool breeze skating across their exposed shoulders. Pure white hair spills over the pillows and mixes with black. Morgana sleeps – a rarity. The only one she trusts herself to is Aithusa, and Aithusa cherishes that trust, knowing well how often it has been used against her. She knows Morgana’s past. For two years their lives were nothing but pain, hunger, and darkness, finding whatever comfort they could from each other.

The magic that bound Morgana’s was strong. It restrained most of Aithusa’s magic and forced her to remain a dragon most of the time. As time passed her joints cramped and her body outgrew the stones. She cried out from constant pain and Morgana whispered soothing words, soft to Aithusa’s ears but laced with protective hatred.

But it was human magic that imprisoned them, and Aithusa, while young, was just a little stronger. She spent what she assumed were days storing her magic enough to modify her body into its human state. She would then reach up to soothe the chaffed skin under the iron shackles that held Morgana’s hands above her head, or simply curl into Morgana, resting her head on the other woman’s chest. She asked Morgana about her past, and Morgana told her everything as far back as she could remember. It distracted them from the sharp shooting pains of limbs long stiffened. It gave them a sense of time passing where they had no indication of day or night, or how many weeks had passed. Most importantly, it kept their minds from dying.

Morgana talked of her mother, beautiful and kind, and of her father, Gorlois, not the lying tyrant Uther. Gorlois was stern and often yelled at her for playing rough with the boys, but he only feared for her safety. When she mentioned their deaths, Aithusa mourned with her.

She talked of moving to Camelot, lost and intimidated by the people and customs and her new status. Gwen had been a welcomed friendship and Arthur the sibling rivalry she’d always wanted. She told Aithusa of Ealdor, when they were still young and naïve – how exciting it had been to go off on an adventure. She’d had pre-battle nerves, and distracted herself by finally kissing Gwen as they shared a bed in Hunith’s house, meters away from Arthur and Merlin.

Her voice was always light when she told stories of her childhood in Camelot. But it grew low and hard when she mentioned Uther or Merlin. She described the  suffocating panic of drinking hemlock and the sickening realization of betrayal – the way her lungs burned and the look of anger and flicker of guilt on Merlin’s face before he held her and everything went dark.

She talked of Morgause. Where Gwen had been soft and sweet, Morgause was sturdy and bold. She had come to rescue her like a knight in the stories her mother used to tell her. Morgause worshiped Morgana in ways Gwen couldn't. For three years Morgause was the most important thing in Morgana’s life. More important than her magic or the crown, for without Morgause, Morgana would've had neither. When Morgana talked about her sister, Aithusa heard nothing but love, admiration, and deep, desperate longing.

And when Morgana spoke of Arthur, Aithusa couldn't find just one range of emotions. In the dark isolation Morgana admitted things to Aithusa, to herself, that she would deny to her last breath in the light of day. Morgana knew she loved her brother. But with her claim to the throne and restoring magic to Camelot, it was easier to convince herself she hated him than it was to allow herself love him. He had to be the enemy.

Twice in those two years Aithusa heard, rather than saw, Morgana cry. The first, when Morgana described plunging the dagger into her sister’s willing heart. And the second, when she admitted that she didn't want to kill her brother. She had no family left.

Aithusa knows Morgana is broken. Shattered and sharp, always prepared to hurt instead of be hurt again. And yet, Aithusa loves her, protects her, refuses to leave her and she knows Morgana feels the same. Morgana shifts and tightens her arm around her, bringing her closer. 


End file.
